Long Day
by smidget
Summary: Ron had always known that he needed her. He needed her more than oxygen, more than food or water. But where as he knew how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe, he didn’t know how to keep her. RonHermione. Rewrite.
1. PART ONE

**Disclaimer- I own nothing. Lyrics and title belong to Matchbox Twenty, everything else to JKR.**

**Rewrite- 6/11/09**

**PART ONE- ****Argue**

_-She don't, but she will_

_He says anything to keep her by him-_

Ron had always known that he needed her. He needed her more than oxygen, more than food or water. But where as he knew how to eat, how to drink, how to breathe, he didn't know how to keep her.

When Harry and Ginny had gotten married, he and Hermione had been the best man and maid of honor at their beautiful wedding. Hermione had said then that she would like to get married in a church. Ron had said that it was hard to imagine himself married. She had given him one those _looks_ and he knew that he had done something wrong. He watched her walk away thinking that he never did know what to say.

Now they lived together, but it felt a bit too much like Hogwarts all over again. As if they were in separate dorm rooms and they met at breakfast despite sleeping in the same room, in the same bed. Ron had taken to working long hours at the shop, unpredicable hours, but he _tried _to be home when Hermione was. He really did.

The trouble was, Hermione had unpredictable work hours as well. Too often, Ron would wake up alone and come home to his already sleeping wife. Too often, Hermione would wake in the middle of the night with no one beside her. Ron didn't know that she cried at night.

They talked about work a lot. It was a problem and they both knew it. They needed to be seeing more of each other, but they both loved their jobs and they were both unerringly stubborn. Ron didn't notice Hermione loosing interest in her work.

Now, when Ron finds her standing by the front door, her hand, shaking slightly, resting on the knob, he tells her that he loves her. He says her name. His voice is soft and sincere and he _means_ it. And she doesn't leave, but they both wondered what it would be like if she did.

_-She takes what she gets and she never did flinch, no_

_So over and over,_

_Anyone with any mind would think that's all she gets-_

It goes on like this for some time and nothing changes. It wears on them daily, slowly filing them down to the bone. Hermione never says anything about leaving, but sometimes Ron finds her old Hogwarts trunk open in their bedroom looking like an open casket, Hermione's clothes laying inside.

They never argue in public anymore, not even in front of Harry and Ginny. They put on a good show of getting along and smiling and holding hands and leaning into each other. They always feel like fools afterwards because everyone knows that they get along the best when they're arguing.

Ron misses the moments that they had had so often back at Hogwarts. Hermione would get fired up about something and Ron would pretend to be aloof and pick on her and laugh and the two of them would argue in a way that was entirely their own. Everyone knew that weren't really angry, that Ron didn't really care about what they were fighting about and that Hermione liked the challenge and the witty banter.

Now they argue in a different way, a private way, a _real_ way and it feels as though they don't know each other at all. It feels as though they had ruined something wonderful that they had had in the past. They know each other too well to feel like strangers.

_-If you want you can get to know me well_

_We get along so we shouldn't argue-

* * *

_

Hermione had always been a very logical girl. Logic and knowledge are her refuge, except when it comes to Ron. Sometimes she wishes that she had fallen for Harry instead because when it came to Ronald Weasley, all logical parts of her brain shut down.

There were only a few things that she is certain of when it comes to Ron. She knows that she loves him, that she needs him, and that he cares about her. But there also those moments when she finds herself staring at the front door and wondering what her life looks like on the other side.

She hears her logic talking her, telling her to find out, telling her that it would be easier on the other side of the wood and chipping blue paint in front of her. But that voice that comes from behind her, that voice she knows so well, tells her that she is loved on _this_ side of the door and that was something logic would never be able to understand.

_-And I don't know, said I don't know_

_All these feelings cloud up my reasoning_

_Cloud up my reasoning-_

After some time, Ron begins to take the stance of not talking about their problems. Talking about it hadn't helped so he pretends that nothing is wrong. Sometimes, Hermione fins him staring at her, at her slumped shoulders with a frown on face. She knows there are deep bags under her eyes but if she catches him noticing, he shakes himself and turns away. Hermione can feel the ever-more-gaping hole forming between them. But for Ron, it is easier to sit and watch the ground fall away into the blackness rather than try to build a bridge over it.

After even more time, Hermione stops trying so hard to fix things and starts making excuses. She tells herself that there's nothing to fix. If Ron misses dinner it's because he couldn't get away from work. If she wakes up in the middle of the night and there's no one beside her, she tells herself that Ron is just getting a glass of water and she falls back asleep.

_-I know, but I still believe in ignorance as my best defense-_

Every so often, Hermione tries to talk with Ron about the fact that they hardly saw each other anymore, that they hardly talked anymore, but Ron brushes it off with a casual wave of his hand, he tells her that she is imagining things. He tells her that he is swamped at work, that he really tries to get home quickly and would she please leave him be and let him get some rest?

Hermione also talks with Ginny when Ron isn't around and she knows that Ginny and Harry aren't having the same problems. Hermione sits up by the fire talking with her friend and then Ginny says that Harry has just walked in and that they could talk again after dinner. There is always a bright smile on her face. And Hermione sits and watches the vacant flames, very aware of the fact that Ron has not just walked in and the two of them are not sitting down to dinner.

Ron becomes more and more distant, seeming to avoid coming home and Hermione turns toward her work, burying herself in research and notes and files to turn in to her supervisor. When they are home together, Ron is very defensive over little things and Hermione is tense and teary and prone to storming off and Ron then storms off in the other direction in confusion and frustration. Hermione feels as though any time she talks to Ron, both of them fall apart a little more and the gap between them grows.

_-So go on, wreck me_

_Funny how I carry on and not be taken over_

_Will not roll over on anyone_

'_Cause anyone would stand up on my side-_

Not to mention that it is becoming increasingly apparent to their friends that something isn't right between them. Hermione begins to see less of the people she cares about, even Harry and Ginny, until the walls of their flat seem to close in around her and shut out the world outside. The windows didn't seem to let in as much light and the air felt cold and dry.

Everything becomes unbearable.

Sometimes Hermione feels like she hasn't used her voice in ages. She and Ron sit in silence.

She is also quicker to tears now than she has ever been in her life. She sits and looks at the walls around her and she sees nothing but dusty pictures of a brown haired girl and blue eyed boy that she doesn't know any more but that she misses terribly. Magazines and empty cigarette cartons litter the coffee table. She can't seem to pin down the exact moment when Ron started smoking but she remembers very clearly the first time she saw him with a cigarette in his hand. It was as if she were looking at a complete stranger. She didn't know that man at all.

More and more often, she finds herself staring at the front door.

This isn't how her life is supposed to be. She is supposed to live happily ever after with the love of her life. And no, things wouldn't be perfect, but as long as Hermione Granger was in love with Ron Weasley and he was in love with her, life could do no harm. The trouble is, she doesn't know where Ron Weasley has gone. She doesn't know who this different, cold, tired man stalking about is. She can't find Ron.

Somehow the life she had seen so clearly had slipped through her fingers.

_-You know it's funny how sometimes it don't work out like you want to_

_No, you never got nothing at all-

* * *

_

Ron doesn't how long it's been since he was happy.

He has been living in an unhappy state for so long that he feels like he is drowning. He can't work, he can't go home, he can't go out. He can't go anywhere, he is trapped, cornered. He is being held at wand-point and can do nothing about it.

What had gone wrong that he is now so miserable? He needs a break, an exit, some sleep. His eyes are sore and his limbs drag. He hurts all over.

He gets back to the flat late one night, closes all the curtains in the bedroom and collapses onto the bed, letting the dark soothe his tired head. He lies like that until the front door clicks open and there are soft familiar footsteps heading towards the room. He doesn't look up to see Hermione standing in the doorway, a look of resignation on her face and her eyes slightly red and puffy. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe and watches him for a moment. Somehow, the silence becomes very tangible and Ron rolls over and sits up and looks into the eyes of the girl in front of him.

Neither of them say anything for a moment, but Ron knows that this moment is somehow very important. He waits, but says nothing. He just watches her, almost impassively.

_-Then she tells you that it's over, _

_Boy don't you hate it when it's over_

_I guess something just got lost,_

_And it deeply saddens me-_

Ron will always remember the look in her eyes when Hermione says it. She has tears slowly making their way down her cheeks and there is a regretful smile on her lips. Her voice is anything but firm. More tears pour down her face. He merely looks at her, memorizing her.

He doesn't realize what he is doing when he stands up and walks over to her, looks down into her eyes and then walks past her out onto their little balcony for some fresh air. He suddenly feels as though he couldn't breathe for sadness.

But he revels in it. Ron knows he hasn't felt anything in a long time.

Ron watches as Hermione straightens up, walks resolutely over to the closet, and pulls out her old Hogwarts trunk. Ron's is right next to it and suddnely Ron is overcome with memories of times that were immeasurably happier than he feels right now. He has never missed Hogwarts so much.

He remembers the notes she would take in class while he would doodle all over his. He would play hangman with Harry and look up in-between turns to grin at her. She would give him a stern look but when he turned back to the game he could catch her smile down at her parchment and watch as a pink blush would creep into her cheeks, warming them up.

Now, her cheeks look cold from the thick tears rolling down in familiar patterns.

Ron knows that Hermione's trunk, like his, it still filled with old textbooks and notes and quills and even old sets of robes. He never did get around to clearing his out, and neither did she. Maybe they had never really been ready to move on from their school days, maybe they are not ready for this life.

Well, Ron thinks, they had proved that, hadn't they? Everything had been royally screwed.

* * *

**AN- This is a rewrite- much better than the original I think. It's going to be three parts (each one corresponding to a different Matchbox Twenty song), a sort of extended oneshot.**

**Please review!!**


	2. PART TWO

**Rewrite- 6/12/09**

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* * *

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**PART TWO- Hang**

Aside from some of her old school things, there is a lot of room in her trunk for her other things too. She isn't really aware of what she's putting in anyway. Uncharacteristically, Hermione starts simply throwing things in, burying everything else.

_-She grabs her magazines,_

_She packs her things and she goes-_

Walking out of the bedroom, Hermione makes her way slowly toward the front door. She passes the photos on the mantle and the framed pictures on the wall. She pauses at a few of them, if not to slip into her memories than to buy Ron more time to come in and stop her leaving. She glances out the sliding glass doors and sees that Ron is watching her. She knows that he can clearly see her trunk and the fact that she has put her jacket on. But she sees no indication of this in his face. She turns away.

The front door looks as it always does when she stands in front of it like this. The blue paint is still chipping. She rests her hand as she always does on the bronze knob.

And she waits.

She knows that in a moment, she'll hear his voice, she'll hear that he loves her, that he wants her to stay. She needs to hear his voice. But it is different this time. Hermione doesn't need to hear his voice to make her _stay_, she needs to hear it so she can _leave_. So she waits.

And she waits.

_-She leaves the pictures hanging on the wall,_

_She burns all her notes and she knows,_

_She's been here too few years to feel this old-_

How many times have they been through this now? How many times has she stood before this door feeling that things hadn't gone the way they should have? When had she started feeling this old, this tired? When had she ever wanted to hear his voice more?

Gripping the door handle tightly in her hand, Hermione _waits_ but the only sound she hears is the glass door sliding open. No footsteps come into the room. She doesn't turn around but she knows that Ron is standing, watching her. Just standing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his hair tousled.

And they both know that this time, everything is different. And this time, things will finally change. And they know, deep down, that things _need_ to change and this will be better for both of them.

And so, for the first time, Hermione opens the door to find out just what her life looks like on the other side of it.

* * *

_-He smokes his cigarette_

_He stays outside till it's gone_

_If anybody ever had a heart, he wouldn't be alone_

_He knows, she's been here too few years to be gone-_

Ron has never imagined that in all the times he has called Hermione back from stepping out that door, he would ever let her go without a word. He has never felt so alone in his entire life. He looks at the cigarette lying in the ashtray on the banister surrounding the balcony, still lit, before he grabs it and rubs it our roughly with his foot. He kicks the smoldering remains off the ledge and they fall to the ground a few floors below.

With a motion from his arm that feels jerky and shaky and mechanical, he pushes the ashtray clean off the railing and it falls to the street with a clink and a shattering sound. Ron takes a deep breath of the clean night air before stepping back into the flat.

It has never seemed so big, so empty.

There were dirty dishes in the sink and remnants of take out on the counters. Looking at them, Ron thinks to himself that it is very unlike Hermione to leave all of that lying around. He takes the wand out of his back pocket and gives it a wave in the general direction of the sink. But nothing happens. He tries saying the charm out loud, but still nothing. His chest tightens in frustration as he waves his wand again, almost shouting the incantation, but it is no good. Finally, he drops his wand onto the carpet and drops himself onto the couch.

Glancing at the dying fire, Ron recalls the numerous times he has come home to find Hermione curled up in the chair next to the hearth, sleeping. He would pull a blanket over her and kiss her forehead and it was easy to love her. He thinks about how short the good times had been. When exactly had things gone wrong? How long have they been living like this?

Ron leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and he buries his face in his hands. They soon become wet with tears.

_-And we always say, it would be good to go away, someday_

_But if there's nothing there to make things change_

_If it's the same for you I'll just hang-_

In the next few days Ron really beings to take note of Hermione's absence.

He doesn't know where she's gone but he suspects that Harry does. Harry has been by quite a few times but Ron refuses to talk about what happened and Harry doesn't push him too hard. Everytime Harry comes over, Ron hopes that it's Hermione at the door, that he can see her again. It's been so long. He realizes that he never really saw her when they were together either.

Ron's attempts at cooking are disgraceful. Hermione is not a very good cook herself, but Ron doesn't even remember to go shopping for food. Sometimes he finds packages from his mother waiting in the kitchen. He doesn't got out to eat any more. He doesn't go out drinking either. Not that Ron has ever been much of a drinker, but before Hermione left it was an excuse not to come home.

More and more time goes by and with it Ron's life becomres more regular. He requests more regular hours at the shop. He eats, he sleeps, he goes to work, he does it all again.

But with all of this regularity, it becomes easier for Ron to notice that there is something missing in his life.

_-The trouble, understand, is she got reasons he don't_

_Funny how he couldn't see at all till she grabbed up her coat_

_And she goes, she's been here too few years to take it all in stride_

_Well, still it's much too long to let hurt go,_

_You let her go-_

Sometimes Ron wonders if Hermione knows how much he hurts now that she is gone. He wonders if she is hurting like he is. He hopes that she's not, but he hopes she is so she would come back.

Sometimes Ron thinks, she left me. Her decision.

But he had let her go.

On his breaks from work, Ron finds himself looking for apartments and flats in the area. Everyday it is harder to return to the flat he had shared with Hermione. More and more, the idea of getting away for awhile is more appealing than sitting around in the cold empty flat.

Deep down, Ron knows leaving, running, wouldn't fix anything. He would come back just as broken and lost as he has been for the past few weeks. He dreams sometimes about he and Hermione on a beach somewhere or in a nice cottage. They are curled up on the couch, hands entwined, the smell of her hair filling his senses.

Ron's days begin to blur together, one after the other, no beginning and no end. This is not how he has always imagined his life working out. The ache of this, the ache of Hermione's absence follows him around and weighs him down like a chain around his neck. It is slowly breaking him. And Ron slowly fades into an unhappy existence waiting for the only thing he has ever wanted to walk back into his life.

_-Well I always say, it would be good to go away_

_But if things don't work out like we think_

_And there's nothing there to ease this ache_

_But if there's nothing there to make thing change_

_If it's the same for you I'll just hang-_

_

* * *

_

Harry finds Ron in the front hall of the flat staring at the chipping blue paint of the front door. His friend's long legs are stretched out in front of him, his arms hanging limply at his sides and his eyes glossy.

Other than Ron, the first thing Harry notices in the fact that nothing seems to have changed in the flat for months now. He comes over frequently since Hermione has moved out but the only thing that seems to have changed is Ron. He doesn't smoke anymore.

Harry looks down at Ron on the floor and with nothing else to do or say he slides down the wall next to his friend. The two of them sit there in a strained sort of companionable silence laced with Ron's quiet depression.

In all the years that Harry has known Ron and Hermione they have been arguing, fighting, bickering. Now they aren't speaking and Harry misses their old arguments. Harry knows that Hermione is not doing any better than Ron is, but she hides it well. If Harry didn't know her so well he might not notice the streaks down her cheeks, her more-so-than-usual frazzled hair, the bags under her eyes, the lack of interest in her work.

Harry does know his best friends quite well. And never in all the time that he has known them has Harry ever imagined that they would not end up together. It is one of the more dependable things in his life, his two best friends, not just kept together by his mediating tendencies but because they share a real, deep connection of friendship and something altogether indefinable. It is natural, dependable, and possibly gone forever.

As Harry sits there with Ron, he begins to realize why Ron is so deeply shaken.

So here he is on the cold floor of a cold and empty flat, trying to think of something to say.

However, he is saved the effort when Ron chooses to start the conversation instead. He starts to talk about little things, things that have to do with Hermione, even slightly, and he talks and talks and talks. And Harry listens as Ron looks at his surroundings and lets memories of Hermione play through in his head.

* * *

**AN- part three of three to come soon. Please review!!**


	3. PART THREE

**Rewrite- 6/14/09**

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* * *

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**PART THREE****- Long Day**

_-It's sitting by the overcoat,_

_The second shelf, the not she wrote_

_That I can't bring myself to throw away-_

It is clear to Harry as he listens to Ron talk that everything about this flat reminds Ron of Hermione. The umbrella stand just inside the front door, the clay bowl on the side table filled with change, knuts and sickles and paperclips discarded from pockets. The pictures of his two best friends still cover the mantle, the shelves in the hall, the nightstands in the bedroom.

Harry knows that Ron has been alone in this flat for far too long now. When the breakup first happened, Harry hadn't thought it strange that Ron didn't move out. All his things are here. But as time went one, Ron was only drowning in memories of Hermione and Harry realizes that this has been very unhealthy for Ron.

Eventually, Ron had started to accept his and Ginny's invitations to dinner at their place. But while he is there he rarely smiles and laughs even less frequently. Harry tries to mediate their meals together, fending off too much worry (and sometimes anger) from Ginny and too much pessimism from Ron.

But right now Harry just sits and listens to Ron lift the weight off his shoulders and talk about everything that's happened in the last few months. Because Ron hasn't been talking to Harry about it, and if he wasn't talking to Harry about it, he probably wasn't talking to anybody.

Harry knows that Ron really needs someone right now, someone he knows won't walk out that door and leave him behind.

* * *

_-And also_

_Reach she said for no one else but you_

'_Cause you won't turn away_

_When someone else is gone-_

While Ron talks about the pictures on the wall and about the chipping paint on the front door and about everything that has been going through his head recently that he hasn't been able to tell _anyone_ he feels a whole range of emotions that flood him. Anger, sadness, remorse, they are all welcome as a change to the nothing he has felt for so long now. Finally, unable to talk anymore, Ron feels as though he has collapsed into a broken man in the entry to the flat.

He is thankful for Harry's presence and for his silence. Because Ron knows that Harry won't just get up and leave. He won't wait by the door to see if Ron will call him back. Harry is constant, the one constant in Ron's life since Hermione left it.

It is dark, the few windows letting in little light from the outside. Hermione had complained about that frequently. And now it bothers Ron as well when it never did before. He hates the thought of moving, of leaving this place. But he also hates the way he finds little things of Hermione's that she didn't take with her. He hates that he can't throw them away. He hates that he has become dependent on someone who isn't there anymore. And he hates Hermione for leaving.

But more than anything, as he sits on the cold floor next to Harry in an otherwise empty flat Ron hates himself.

And he is terrified that he will always feel this way.

_-And I'm so terrified of no one else but me_

_I'm here all the time_

_I won't go away_

_Oh, God, I shouldn't feel this way-_

And so Ron realizes that this is a turning point. He has watched as his life spiraled downward until he hit rock bottom, the floor of the entryway to this horrible place. He has a choice now, to sit on this floor and wallow in misery or to pick himself up and start again. Ron looks up at the ceiling and sees strips of pale sunlight reflected there.

Harry is suddenly in front of him. His hand is stretched out towards Ron and Ron knows that this is his chance. Harry is standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other steady in front of him. A constant.

Ron hesitates only a moment. Pulling himself out of this hole is suddenly daunting when he thinks of how far he has fallen, but he knows if he can take this first step there are people there to help pull him the rest of the way.

Taking a deep breath and clinging to what hope he can muster Ron clasps the hand in front of him and pulls himself to his feet.

_-Reach down your hand in your pocket_

_Pull out some hope for me_

_It's been a long day, always ain't the right_

_And no, Lord, you're hand won't stop it_

_Just keep you trembling-_

Looking back it is shocking to Ron that he didn't do this sooner. Ever since that afternoon with Harry, Ron is something of a new person and budding with new life, eager for growth, new green sprigs of life popping from the soil, testing the air.

Ron begins to put his life together, piece by piece, in a meticulous way that he is sure he learned from Hermione.

Much to Ginny's chagrin (and a little to Harry's) Ron spends two weeks living at their place while he waits to move into a new place of his own. The flat he had shared with Hermione was bought right away by a young couple, just starting out. Ron passed them once in the hall while he carried the last of his boxes. He had recognized something in their faces, something like hope and a lot of love. But Ron wasn't fooled into thinking that those sorts of things are guaranteed forever.

He left only one item in the flat for the new tenants. It was a small scarp of yellow parchment with a note scrawled in messy script, but it was sincere. Good luck.

Now Ron has a new place and he invites Harry and Ginny over for dinner at least once a week. It is well lit with tall windows that face the afternoon sun. It is also the closest to home away from the Burrow that Ron has been in a long time. And he is quickly making it his own with a door of bright blue, unchipped paint at the front.

* * *

_-Well I'm surprised that you'd believe_

_In anything that comes from me_

_I didn't hear from you or from someone else-_

Hermione is surprised to hear that Ron is doing well for himself again. She is a little jealous because while Ron is crawling out of the hard shell around him, Hermione remains tucked firmly inside, rolling down a hill with no view of the bottom. She can only watch her surroundings fly past her in a swirling blur. She feels sick almost all of the time.

She has found that her life outside of Ron is almost as gloomy as her life inside that flat. But Hermione is still glad that she left because the Ron she left behind in that flat was a broken man. And now she hears from Harry and Ginny how well he is doing for himself. She hears about Ron quite frequently from Harry and Ginny and she shouldn't be surprised really. Just because she doesn't see him anymore doesn't mean no one else could.

But if anything, hearing about the progress Ron is making makes this whole situation worth it. They had been slowly killing themselves before and now… well now Ron is coming to life again.

Yes, Ron is coming to life again and Hermione is moving through life alone. When she realizes this, she feels like putting her down and crying. But she has cried enough already and wasted too much time on what happened before. Hermione takes a step forward and leaves that grim, gloomy flat of her past behind her, not worrying over all the time that passed so quickly since then.

_-And you're so set in life man_

_Too damn bad you get so far so fast_

_So what, so long-_

One year after Ron and Hermione had broken up, the find each other again, almost by accident. There is no planned meeting devised by their friends, no social event common to both of their lives. It is simply coincidence that the two of them happen to be in the same place at the same time, surrounded by dozens of other people bustling about on the crowded sidewalk.

Hermione comes to a halt when she sees him and a moment later she knows that he sees her too. He continues walking, right up in front of her and then stops. They stare at each other for a few long minutes and say nothing.

Hermione can see that Ron has changed, and only for the better. He stands up straighter so that he seems even taller than before. And there is a light in his eyes that she has not seen in a long time. Hermione feels herself blushing at the awkward silence but neither of them looks away.

Then, without a care as to what will happen next, Hermione closes the short distance between them and throws her arms around Ron's neck and hugs him tightly to her. She buries her face in his shoulders and he runs his fingers through her hair. He kisses her forehead lightly and Hermione feels a weight lift off of her shoulders.

Ron takes her hand and holds it firmly in his and Hermione smiles up at him, the biggest smile she's worn since long before she left all that time ago. She could hold his hand forever. And she knows that things will be different now, that she wants to see him more than anything, that she wants to have his arms around her for the first time in over a year.

And from his smile she knows that she has not lost him for good, that she never could, that it was a risk to walk out that door but that it was all worth it now.

And Hermione feels as though this is the morning after a very, very long day, that this is the start of something new, that this is the start of something good and she squeezes Ron's hand and has hope that this is good.

_-Reach down you hand in your pocket_

_Pull out some hope for me-_

_-It's been a long day, always ain't that right-_

* * *

**AN- ...and the final part. As I said, a sort of extended one-shot. Please let me know what you think and review! (It means so much and only takes a second).**


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